A Crabby Killer (10 page)

S
arah gasped
. “Ray! No!”

Claire’s head swiveled back to Sarah. She knew the mysterious stranger? And apparently well enough to object to his confession. Claire wondered what Shane thought of that, but a quick glance at his face revealed no emotions. Unlike the rest of them, Shane did not seem surprised at this turn of events.

Clearly Shane, Sarah and this Ray person all knew each other. Were they all in on it together? Thoughts of the
Crabby
at the
Gull View Inn
floated to her mind. She wished they’d stopped there first to make sure it was still on the mantle. But then, how did Bob’s missing
Crabby
figure in to this?

“Rita, I’m not going to let you go through the same hell you went through before.” Ray held his wrists out toward Robby. “You can arrest me instead.”

Robby raised a brow at Zambuco, who was frowning at Ray.

“No!” Sarah rushed over to stand between Robby and Ray. “I won’t let you do this.”

Zambuco crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his head, his eyes studying Sarah. “I would think you’d be happy to get off the hook, but clearly it looks like you three suspects know each other. That’s a mighty strange coincidence.”

“I don’t need to get off the hook, because I didn’t kill anyone,” Sarah said. “And neither did Ray.”

“How can you be so sure?” Zambuco asked. “Did you know he’s here using a fake name? That implies deception. But then, again, you would know about that.”

Sarah’s cheeks flushed and she looked at the floor. “My name is not fake. I told you I changed it legally.”

Zambuco waved his arm. “Whatever. Either way, I’ve got a guy using a fake name who just confessed to a murder standing in front of me. Protocol says I can’t leave a killer lose to wreak havoc on the general public, so I think I need to get him down to the station right away.” He glanced at Sarah. “Unless you were with him and can give him an alibi. Then again if you were, I’d be inclined to think you were in on it together.”

Ray avoided looking at Sarah. “Rita, just let them take me in. It will get them off your back and I’ll get what I deserve,” Ray pleaded.

Sarah’s tortured eyes sought Shane’s and he gave an imperceptible nod. She stepped back and Robby cuffed Ray.

Zambuco grabbed Ray’s elbow and started toward the door. Pausing with his hand on the handle, he looked over his shoulder. “And don’t you two go anywhere, either. This whole thing smells like rotten crabmeat and I know there’s more to it. Especially since you seem to be so close to the killer, here. Rest assured, we’ll find out his real identity and motives and if you two are in on it with him, I’ll be back to make sure justice is served.”

Zambuco pushed on the door and then rammed into it because it opened inward. He cursed, fumbled with the knob, jerked the door open and then propelled Ray through. Claire turned her attention back to Sarah.

“Sarah … or should I call you Rita?” Claire’s voice rose with uncertainty.

Sarah answered in a monotone, her eyes glued to the parking lot where they were putting Ray into the police car. “Sarah, please. I changed my name for a reason and I still want to put all that behind me. I’m Sarah White now.”

Claire nodded. “Okay, Sarah. I have to ask. Who was that man and
how
do you know he’s not the killer? Why would an innocent man confess to murder?”

“That man is no killer,” Sarah said. “I know that because he’s my twin brother. He came here because he heard Blunt was coming here. He wanted to shield me from him. He came here to protect me and now he’s going to jail for me.”

Claire’s sharp intake of breath gave away her surprise. Sarah had a twin brother? Beside her, Dom smoothed his eyebrows, his face registering the same level of surprise.

“Well, if that’s the case, Zambuco won’t be able to find any evidence to make the charge stick, even if Ray did confess,” Dom pointed out.

Sarah’s pleading eyes flicked between Claire and Dom. “That may be the case, but I don’t trust Zambuco. Ray didn’t have anything to do with killing Blunt and neither did Shane or I. I’m begging you to find the real killer before Zambuco trumps up some evidence that sends Ray away for life.”

“
D
o
you really think this Naughton guy is innocent?” Dom asked later after he and Claire had retreated to the scenic overlook to mull over their plan.

“Howell.” Claire fiddled with her phone, holding it away from her body and up in the air.

Huh?”

“His last name must be Howell if he’s Sarah’s brother.”

“Oh, right.” It was going to take Dom a while to get used to the idea that Sarah’s real name was Rita. Then again, did it really matter? She still wanted them to call her Sarah.

Before they’d left the diner, she’d apologized again and assured them that she’d been ‘born’ as Sarah White into her new life on Mooseamuck Island and she intended to stay. Or maybe that was all a cleverly crafted lie to illicit their sympathy.

“I’m not sure what to think.” Claire pulled the phone back to her lap and studied the display. “At least what she says about Ray being her brother is true.” Claire tapped her index finger on the phone. “Right here is the whole story. It sounds pretty close to what Sarah told us. And from the tones of their voices and their body language, it did seem like they were telling the truth.”

“So, you didn’t see any telltale signs that they were covering up?”

Claire shook her head. “No. I know Sarah. She doesn’t fit the profile of a killer. Nor does Shane. Though we have seen other people who didn’t fit a killer’s profile resort to drastic measures for loved ones. But I don’t think that’s the case here. However, I can’t say the same for Ray because I don’t know him at all.”

“Let’s say it wasn’t Ray, Sarah or Shane. Then who was it? Could it really have been Tom and Mae working together?” Dom asked.

Claire snorted. “Are you serious? You don’t really think it could have been them, do you?”

Dom sighed. “Knowing them, I don’t think so. But we have very few clues to go on and the ones that we do have point in their direction. They had motive. They were both there at the scene of the crime. Tom was there in the bar that night.”

“Ray was in the bar that night, too,
and
he fought with Blunt,” Claire pointed out.

“Now we know what he meant when he said he would ‘finish what she started’. The ‘she’ he was talking about must have been Sarah.”

Claire put her phone down and gazed out at the ocean. “That’s right. But I do think it’s kind of funny he used those words as a threat—
finish what she started
. If Sarah only intended to make Blunt’s life miserable, what did he mean by ‘finish’? Or was Sarah lying about the lengths she intended to go to and Ray intended to finish it for her once and for all by killing Blunt off?”

“You might be reading too much into that. He might have blurted that out in the heat of the moment and it sounds more sinister than it was, considering how Blunt ended up in the crab pot.” Dom’s mind drifted to the twine. “Where would Ray get the twine? Or the
Crabby,
for that matter?”

“Can’t you get that twine anywhere?” Claire asked. “We could ask Marj at the General Store who ordered twine, but the amount that was around Blunt’s neck wasn’t significant so I think the killer could have picked up a remnant anywhere. And, of course, it can be purchased off-island so Ray, or anyone, could have bought it anywhere.”

“Good point. Without police resources, it will be hard for us to track that down.” Dom felt a pinprick of regret that he no longer had police resources. Those resources had helped him solve many cases. But those police resources were just a small part of solving cases. It was his detective skills that really mattered. Without the skills, the resources were worthless.

Dom straightened his back and smiled. He still had those skills and now he would have an opportunity to put those skills to creative uses that might have been frowned upon when he was police consultant.

“If it was Ray, he could have gotten the
Crabby
right from the
Gull View Inn
. He
was
staying there.”

Dom’s eyebrows tingled. There was something strange about the
Crabby
being the murder weapon. There were so few of them and somewhere there was one that was missing a piece. “If Ray took it from the
Gull View
, then why would someone break into Bob’s and steal his?”

“Maybe that’s not why they broke in. Or maybe the
Crabby
was already missing from Bob’s. The break-in could just be a coincidence.”

“Or maybe Ray had used the
Crabby
from the
Gull View
to kill Blunt, then stole Bob’s to replace that one at the
Gull View
and lay the blame on Bob at the same time.”

Dom screwed up his face. “That seems like a pretty complicated plan and how would Ray even know Bob had a Crabby?”

“If he is the killer, he used a Crabby to do it, so somehow he knew about the prestigious award. He might have seen it on the mantle at the
Gull View
. Maybe he even asked about it and found out who else had one. It’s clear that Shane knew who Ray really was as well as the whole story about Sarah’s background with Blunt. The three of them had probably met and talked before. In fact, Sarah was probably the person that Velma saw Ray meeting with in the rose garden. Maybe Shane told Ray how Bob was drunk that night and Ray cleverly put two and two together and figured he could try to pin it on Bob. Ray might have even seen Bob in the bar. He was there himself.”

“Maybe Ray planned it out ahead of time and he was the one sending the drinks to Bob,” Dom mused.

“Everything keeps circling back to Bob. He had the twine, he had the
Crabby
and he had the motive. The only problem is that, by all accounts, he was too drunk to kill Blunt.”

“Or that’s what he wanted everyone to think,” Dom said.

Claire nodded slowly. “I hate to think that Bob would be so devious, but his business was at risk. Or he might have been set up. I think we need to find out more about what Bob really did that night. Who bought him the drinks? And did he really stay home after Shane dropped him off?”

“And who broke into his house and why,” Dom said. “I have a gut feeling that might be the key to the whole thing. We know Blunt was hit with a
Crabby
and we know Bob’s was missing.”

“But was it missing before the break-in or did the thief take it?”

“I think that’s what we need to figure out. Once we do, I think we may know who the killer is.”

“But how do we figure
that
out?”

“I can think of only one way.” Dom smoothed his tingly brow. “Return to the scene of the crime.”

I
t would have been easier
if they could have gotten information from the cops as to what leads they had on the break-in, but Claire didn’t dare call Robby. Besides, she knew they had to learn how to investigate without police assistance if they wanted to keep solving crimes, an endeavor which she was surprised to discover she dearly hoped they would continue.

They parked a few streets away from the house, just in case the police happened by. They figured Zambuco would be mad if he caught them there, so they didn’t want their car to be seen.

“We may have to get creative,” Dom said as he held up the branch of a rhododendron for Claire to pass under. “We don’t have the resources of the police now. But we still have our detecting skills.”

“We certainly do. What do we need police resources for, anyway?”

“Police resources
would
help us get into the house and be able to look at the crime scene.” Dom studied the back door which the police had shut and, presumably, locked.

Claire stood on her tip-toes to reach into a potted plant that hung from the overhang atop the door. “Or we could just use the key.” She removed her hand from the pot to show a house key splotched with dirt. “It helps to be an islander and know where other islanders hide things,” she explained at Dom’s raised brow look.

She hesitated at the door. “I’m sure the police have already dusted for fingerprints, but I still think we should be careful.” She bent down and plucked a wide leaf from a hosta plant and put it over the knob while she inserted the key into the lock and turned it.

The door clicked open and they stepped inside. The only evidence that the police had been there were a few smudges of black fingerprint dust on some of the surfaces. Otherwise, the room looked much the same as it had earlier that day before they had called the police.

“I’m not exactly sure what to look for,” Claire admitted and Dom felt a rush of pride that she was asking for his advice. Then again, the discovering of physical clues was more his department than hers.

“I don’t think we will find any clues as to who the perpetrator is inside the house. If there were any, the police would have found them and taken them as evidence already. But I did want to look at the china cabinet and see if we could determine whether or not it was the
Crabby
that was taken this afternoon.” Dom stood in front of the cabinet, tilting his head this way and that as he studied the empty space on the top shelf. He moved to the right side, then the left to view the shelf from different angles. Finally, he bent forward at the waist, his hands behind his back and his nose practically touching the cabinet.

While he was doing that, Claire took a silent inventory of the room. She was a good friend of Molly’s and had been to the house many times. That’s how she knew Molly kept a key in the planter as well as under the mat. She didn’t have a photographic memory like Dom, so she didn’t know exactly what had been in the china cabinet, but from what she could remember there was nothing else missing from the room.

“I don’t think the thief took anything else,” Claire said. “Can you tell whether or not he took the
Crabby
?”

Dom’s face was awash with disappointment. “Unfortunately, there are no clues as to when the
Crabby
was taken. You can see the spot where it sat.” He pointed to a round, clean spot in the middle of the otherwise dusty shelf. “The dust in front of it has been disturbed in such a way that indicates it was removed recently. The problem is there’s no way to tell if that was this afternoon, or two days ago when Blunt was killed.”

“Even if we could tell if it was removed two days ago, we still couldn’t be sure who actually removed it. It could have been Bob, or it could have been Shane when he dropped Bob off that night. Or it could have been someone who came to visit Bob.”

“That’s the problem. Our best bet is to go outside and see if we can find a clue from the thief who fled. I think I can find precisely the route he took through the woods.”

They locked up, careful not to touch any of the surfaces and made sure they left everything as it was. Claire wiped the key on her pants before returning it to the pot.

“I believe he took off in this direction.” Dom pointed to a narrow path which looked like it had been recently trampled.

“It looks like the police have been all over it,” Claire said.

“Yes, that’s unfortunate. But maybe the police don’t have as keen an eye as we do, and maybe they didn’t follow the exact route the perpetrator took. I believe when I saw him from the car, he had angled off to the right towards the river. The walking trail goes to the left, so that might be the path the police searched.”

They walked slowly through the woods, their heads moving systematically right to left like synchronized metronomes as they searched for clues: a shoe print, a piece of fiber, a dropped cigarette butt, anything that might give them a lead.

After ten minutes, Dom stopped. “I’m not sure which way he went from here. It’s too far to see from the road. It would be impossible to tell which direction we should search in.”

Claire sighed. “There’s only two of us and we have no equipment. We couldn’t possibly do a sweep of this entire area.”

“I know, but I hate to give up. This is really the only lead we have.”

“But we’re not even sure the break-in has anything to do with the murder. Maybe we should follow up with the twine angle,” Claire suggested.

Dom’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. “I guess you’re right. We should go to the …”

His voice trailed off, his brows tugging together as he looked at something on the ground.

“What is it?” Claire asked.

Dom pushed at something hidden halfway under a leaf with his foot. His face brightened. He bent down to pick it up. Pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, he held it out for Claire to see.

Claire didn’t know if the police had searched this area, but she could see why they would have missed this clue. It looked just like something you would expect to see in the woods—an acorn, but Claire knew it wasn’t just any acorn. It was a caramel root beer acorn. The same candy that was a favorite of Ray ‘Naughton’ Howell.

“
S
o Ray
really is the killer.” Claire’s eyes were fixed on the acorn.

“Why do you say that?” Dom asked.

“That’s one of those caramel root beer acorns that he gave to Velma. And he did confess to the murder.” Claire’s face fell. “I was hoping he did’t do it, for Sarah’s sake, but he had a motive
and
he threatened the victim. He did have the opportunity and the means and now we’ve got this clue that places him here at the break-in.”

“But Ray isn’t the only one of the suspects that eats this kind of candy,” Dom said. “Tom Landry was eating one of these in Mae’s kitchen the day Zambuco caught him burying the top of the
Crabby
which, by the way, was the murder weapon.”

Claire gave a half shrug. “True, but Ray has the more powerful motive of revenge.”

“I don’t know,” Dom said. “It could be argued that Tom’s motive was pretty powerful. He wouldn’t want his farm taken away and it seems like he was hell-bent on protecting Mae. The two of them might have been in on it together. I noticed that Mae had the brown twine that was used in the murder.”

“So did Sarah. She could have given it to Ray.”

Dom’s eyes snapped over to Claire’s in surprise. He hadn’t realized that she’d made note of Mae giving the twine to Sarah. He felt a swell of pride. Claire was becoming quite adept at noticing clues under his tutelage. “But Sarah’s is still behind the counter at
Chowders
.”

“Mae’s was cut into pieces too small to fit around Blunt’s neck.”

Dom nodded. “And none of this rules out Bob, either.”

“For all we know, they’re all in on it together.”

Dom’s brows shot up. “Now, wouldn’t that be something.”

“Indeed. But I hope that’s not the case. We have three clues and now we need to narrow them down.”

Claire glanced in the direction of the house. “But it still doesn’t explain why someone would steal Bob’s
Crabby
. What is the motive there?”

“Good question. Unless Bob is the actual killer and the
Crabby
was already gone before the break-in, the only reason I can think for someone else to steal it is that someone wanted to frame Bob. For some reason, they didn’t use Bob’s crabby in the first place, maybe they couldn’t get at it or another one was handy or they didn’t even think to frame him until later. And then when they realized the police knew a
Crabby
was the murder weapon, they found a perfect opportunity to frame Bob. Everyone knows Bob lives alone and he’s out on his boat most of the day. All the killer had to do was steal Bob's
Crabby
, switch the plaques on the base with the real murder weapon and then plant it where the police could find it.”

Claire snapped her fingers. “And then they could put the modified
Crabby
back to replace the one that they stole to commit the murder in the first place!”

“Yes, they would have to do that because with only five
Crabby's
on the island, someone would soon find theirs was missing. The killer was actually quite ingenious to come up with this.”

“Yes, he was, but this still doesn’t bring us any closer to his identity.”

“Well, it would have to be someone that had access to a
Crabby
, brown twine and these acorn candies.”

Claire frowned at the candy. “You know, if we were on the police force I’m not sure we would be able to use this candy as a clue. There’s nothing that ties this to the break-in. It could have been laying here in the ground for weeks.”

Dom turned the caramel acorn around his fingers, a small smile spreading across his lips. Claire
was
getting good at noticing clues, but she had a ways to go before she could interpret all the nuances like he could.

“I don’t think so. This candy is in perfect condition. If it had been here for weeks, or even days, an animal would have eaten it or the weather would have deteriorated it and the insects would be chewing on it. This one is perfect, proving that it must have only been here a few hours.”

Clear squinted at the candy. “Good point. I guess you’re right. Do you think it’s okay if we take it? I mean, the police might need it for evidence. We probably shouldn’t have touched it.”

“You are correct.” Dom looked past the candy at her. “Luckily, one of the perks of not working with the police is that we don’t have to do things by the book. We can simply put this back and lead the police to it after
we
figure out who the killer is.”

Dom looked at the candy, a satisfied warmth blooming in his chest. He knew this was a good clue, and he knew that he and Claire could ferret out the identity of the real killer. Just like in the old days. “I think we need to find out who else on the island had a fancy for these candies. There can’t be too many people who have a taste for the combination of caramel and root beer.”

Claire snorted. “You can say that again. It sounds gross.”

“Velma said that Ray got these candies from the
Harbor Fudge Shop
. I do believe paying them a visit might be quite informative.”

Claire’s mouth watered with visions of the
Harbor Fudge Shop’s
famous dark chocolate. She’d eaten the stash Jane had bought her already. She started toward the car. “Well, then, what are we waiting for?”